


ties and words

by Catzzy



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: (it’s May), Hurt Peter Parker, Minor Character Death, Paranoia, Peter Parker Whump, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, abandonment feelings, but - Freeform, i know it’s cliche, it’s different okay?, it’s sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 06:00:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23846374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catzzy/pseuds/Catzzy
Summary: She’s leaning forwards before he can think, yanking him by the collar, “everyone that came into your life is dead, May included,” she says, tone dangerously quiet and eyes filled with tears. “She gave up everything for you, for someone she didn’t know and look where she is, Peter.”He’s so focused on her pained eyes that he doesn’t notice Happy come in, only notices when he’s pulling her off of him, but she won’t let go. She tightens her hold on his collar, dragging him back with her.Or - how Tony dealt with his parents death and how he’s trying to be better for Peter
Relationships: Happy Hogan & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 21
Kudos: 178





	ties and words

He takes in a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his fists to ignore the crushing chill racking through his entire body. He _has_ to ignore it, because for once, he’s not the center of the problem.

Pepper smiles at him sympathetically, and it takes some convincing from her side to make him believe that he is the best person for this, because he is the only one out of the pair that actually knows him, and _just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I’m her_.

He shakes his hands in the air, like he’s about to go skydiving instead of talking to a kid, then starts walking. He walks until he’s outside the room, and the door is, surprisingly, wide open.

Peter is sitting on the edge of the bed, arms crossed on his knees and head hanging down. He’s wearing the suit, but the tie hangs in his hand, and there’s a deep, tearful frown he can make out.

It’s concerning that Peter doesn’t acknowledge his presence, because his head usually snaps up at the sound of someone walking or even _breathing_ five rooms down.

Words won’t cut it, he decides as he walks in, yet he still doesn’t what _will_ when he’s standing over Peter, who still hasn’t moved an inch.

He gets on one knee, looking up at him finally. Peter looks up at him, lips pursed tightly as his face starts to twist. “She . . . ” he looks down at the tie, then inhales shakily.

Tony takes the tie before Peter can start speaking again. He says, without words, that he gets it, that _you don’t need to explain_.

Then he’s wrapping it around Peter’s neck and crossing it over, only stopping when his hands start to shake too much and he has to stop his eyes from wandering and look at Peter, who won’t return the courtesy because he’s too close to crying, and Tony can tell he’s trying not to.

He lets go of the tie, a remainder of everything that’s gone, and drops his hands onto Peter’s shoulders, Still doesn’t what to say.

Not even when Peter’s head hits his shoulder, which is when he moves his hand to the back of his head, trying and just _trying_ to comfort him.

_”Come on, Tony, you gotta get downstairs, people are waiting,” Obie says, giving him that look that says he doesn’t have another option._

_He straightens Tony’s tie, then puts a hand on his shoulder._

_“I’m not going down there,” Tony says again, itching to take the hand off him._

_Obie tightens his hold, “listen to me, little Stark. They’re looking for a leader. Not a child,” he says, then perhaps realizes he was too harsh, and loosens the hold, patting the shoulder instead._

_“I loved your parents, Tony. Loved them. Your dad—he’d want you to do better. This—all of this—” he waves his hands in the air, “—it’s for you. And I’ll teach you how, don’t you worry about that.”_

_Tony looks to the door, hears the murmurs of people downstairs in ‘mourning’. “I was angry at the them the last time I . . . “ he shrugs._

_Obie looks sympathetic. “It’s okay. Alright? We just have to look at the bigger picture now, and that involves you doing what I say. I’ll help you. You know you’re the son I never had and I won’t let you do this alone”_

Tony smiles. Fake sympathy. Fake love. Fake _everything_ , and he was the idiot that fell for it because he was so damn _sad_ and 

That’s why he doesn’t—he _can’t_ say anything like that to Peter if there’s the smallest chance that he’ll be sitting somewhere in twenty-years’ time, scarred for life because Tony said the wrong words at the wrong time.

“I’m here,” he says before he can stop himself. “I’m here, always. Alright? Always,” he whispers, closing his eyes. Those seem like the right words. 

That’s what _he_ had wanted to hear. That’s what Obie _should’ve_ said and he shouldn’t have settled for anything less, but he was vulnerable, and he stayed that way for too long. That’s why he’ll make sure he avoids anything that, because none of it meant anything, and it all led to deception.

He hears Peter sniffle trying not to cry too loud. “I can’t—I don’t—” he takes a sharp breath, and he can’t stop hitching long enough to get any of his words out.

He looks down at Peter’s hair, which brushes his chin, “this is healthy, definitely, should’ve tried it instead of turning into a narcissist party-boy for a brief ten years— _but_ let’s also consider the fact that Pepper’s gonna think I’m intentionally making a teenager cry when she comes to check on my progress in about five minutes.

He fears he won’t get a response, but he does, in the form of a jerk, a small hitch of a laugh that interrupts the crying. 

Peter pulls away, eyes bloodshot as he wipes at his face, then smiles again. “You weren’t a narcissist,” Peter says.

Tony smiles, still continuing to hold him by the shoulder. He takes the tie, “you don’t have to wear it,” he says, if only to ignore his own memories about stupid ties and funerals. 

He knows Peter won’t mind, and he doesn’t. He nods eagerly. 

He sighs, “we’ll all be with you.”

* * *

The funeral comes and goes, and some people say some touching things. Too many people come, and he has to rack his poor, reeling-from-shock brain trying to place names to faces.

They end up back at the house.

“ _Yeah, I think she had a sister_.”

“ _Who_?”

“ _Holly. Forgot her last name_.”

“ _Where does she live_?”

Hesitation. “ _I don’t know, Tony, we were together a year and she didn’t say much about her_.” Another pause. “ _I don’t think they were on good terms_ ,” Happy says.

Tony sighs. “ _We have to ask. It’s her sister_.”

Happy scoffs. “ _I’m not just—what the hell are we asking her, exactly_?”

“ _I don’t know! If she’s okay with—I don’t know, Happy. He’s sixteen. She should know. Maybe she’d want to—y’know_.”

Peter blinks at the ceiling, head resting against the sofa. Blinks again and again as he listens to the squabble. The plan. What to do next. He didn’t think that far.

He didn’t think about things like houses and rents and _living_ because that was May’s job. He should’ve. She’s not here anymore and now it’s his job to do that.

They’re speaking nearby, and they both know he can hear them, right? They know he hears everything. 

The conversation quietens down, and Peter doesn’t realize that they’re both standing in front of him. He breaks the staring contest with the ceiling and looks at them both.

Happy says “we’ll go see your Aunt Holly tomorrow, alright?” 

Peter nods, because there’s nothing else he can do. He can’t tell them he doesn’t want to go. He can’t tell them that Aunt Holly hated May, and that she hated Ben and him even more.

That’s why he nods. He says, “okay.”

Happy doesn’t look too eager either, even though he is the one who suggested they do this. He puts a hand on Peter’s head, which they both keep doing, and asks, “does it still hurt?”

Peter shakes his head. “No.”

* * *

The car ride is long, and he feels like a delivery package sitting at the back of the car because they’re hoping to drop him off with May’s evil stepsister. A toy, about to be opened and destroyed by the bullies that live in that house.

He stares out of the window the whole time, earphones in but nothing playing just so that they won’t talk to him, and so that he can hear whatever they say.  
CSS

They don’t talk a whole lot. 

It starts to rain, and he stares at the raindrops racing on the window.

The car comes to a stop and he lifts his head up. He recognizes the door from the last time they were here. The first and last. Colorful words exchanged. Holly didn’t even come to Ben’s funeral. It’s not a surprise she missed May’s.

He tries to remember if he included her in the list. He sent a letter, he’s sure. She probably ignored it.

He doesn’t say anything about it though, and they don’t ask much. He shrugs when they ask why she didn’t come. They don’t question him. 

He watches them out get, then they stand outside and argue about whether they should go in first and take in him later. Then they decide they should all go in.

Tony knocks, then steps back.

The door opens a minute later, and there stands Holly, dressed in work clothes because it’s around six in the evening and she probably just got home.

Her confusion fades when her eyes land on Peter, who wants to shrink away into the back. It turns into anger that he can sense, which Tony and Happy can’t see.

She invites them in, and Holly’s daughter comes to take Peter inside, while his two bodyguards tell Holly exactly what happened to May. He can hear her heartbeat turn fast, and he can hear a light sniffle.

He ignores what April is saying. 

He is a little surprised that Holly is crying, but then May never told him everything about what happened. 

He hears her tell Happy and Tony to speak to Peter alone, and they agree. They’re more than happy to oblige with the request.

She comes in, sits down next to April.

She asks him, “you know why I named my daughter April?” 

He stares, shakes his head. “No.”

“I thought – May, April, “ she broke into laugh, “and we joked she should name hers June. How funny would that be?” she looked away, a distant look in hers.

For a second, her sadness—her memories of May—they all seem genuine. 

His heart is beating too fast.

“Then life happened. She met Benjamin. She agreed to adopt _you_. She was—I told her to think it over. Your parents died, Peter, and I felt for you,” she says sympathetically, pursing her lips, and he feels his chest sting and eyes burn at their mention. Only because now he doesn’t have any of those people left. “You ruined her life.”

He looks down, blinking and blinking, hoping the tears will stop but his throat’s stringing and he should’ve expected this. 

“ _Mom_ ,” April interjects, “stop,” she says, as quietly as she can, like any child does when their parent says something embarrassing. Or perhaps too honest.

Holly’s leaning forwards before he can think, yanking him by the collar, “everyone that came into your life is dead, May included,” she says, tone dangerously quiet and eyes filled with tears. “She gave up everything for you, for someone she didn’t know and look where she is, Peter.”

“Mom,” April says again, eyeing the door. “Mom, leave him alone! His mother just died.”

“That wasn’t his mother. That was—that was _my_ sister and she deserved better than this.”

He still can’t bring himself to say anything, and he knows ‘sorry’ won’t be enough—not for her. “I loved her, aunt Holly,” he says, barely audible.

“No, you didn’t,” she says.

He’s so focused on Holly’s pained eyes that he doesn’t notice Happy come in, only notices when he’s pulling her off of him, but she won’t let go. She tightens her hold on his collar, dragging him back with her.

Tony and Happy comes in. There’s shouting.

She lets go of him, and April apologises, over and over, saying her mother’s not thinking straight and that she can get him water or something to eat or—

“No. We’re going,” Tony says over her rambles, straightening his tie like he’s just finished a business meeting instead of stopped Peter’s other aunt from _murdering_ him. “Come on, Peter,” he says quickly, and takes Peter’s phone from his hands because they’re shaking so much.

They lock eyes for a few seconds, and Tony’s eyes scream _I’m sorry_ at him before they harden, and he all but nudges Peter along and out of the house. 

_This_ might be the last time he comes back here. Holly would die before she speaks to him again. But he guesses that depends on what Mr Stark decides.

They walk to the car. Happy opens the door for him, and he gets inside, really hoping the door will close and he can breakdown in silence.

But they don’t leave. They both stand there, staring at him, until he starts to cry because he can’t not after _that_.

Happy looks to Peter, and Tony’s getting in next to him, nudging him in, while Happy gets in from the other side. 

“You know who she reminds me of, Hap?” Tony asks, pulling him in close, letting his head rest against him.

He feels Happy’s hand on his shoulder. “Who?”

“Cruella,” he says, and it doesn’t sound like a joke, but Peter scoffs anyway. It’s kind of funny, even if he hardly remembers that movie or who Cruella is. She sounds villainy enough.

Happy snorts, “if that’s what she’s like, then I get why May said nothing about her.”

They fall silent again, and Peter starts crying again. Except, this time it’s different. He can’t stop. It’s loud. He’s never cried so loud before, and no one tries to quieten him or tell him _it’s alright_ , because it isn’t.

They sit there in silence with him. Tony lets him bury his face as far as he can so that he can’t see the light. Happy keeps his hand on Peter’s head.

* * *

Happy drives back, and he falls asleep somewhere in between because he’s just so tired and finished with this day. With this _week_. 

He wakes up too quick, eyes fluttering open only enough to see Tony’s thumb scrolling on his phone. He’s skimming something, and Peter’s eyes aren’t focused enough to see what it is. 

When he does, eventually, his hand reaches for his neck. He’s thirsty. He’s hungry too. He doesn’t tell them, though, but Happy still pulls into a drive-through. 

Tony goes back to the front, and they eat in silence.

Then they’re back on the road, and it takes them another hour before they make it to Tony’s place. 

They pass the city, and Peter watches them skip all the usual roads that _would_ lead back home. He’s never going home again.

When they do get to Mr Stark’s house, he follows them in and waits at the door. Doesn’t know where to go. 

Happy sighs loudly as he shuts the door. “What a crap day,” he says.

Tony scoffs, “don’t remind me.”

He follows them inside.

They move to the kitchen as they talk, about random things, about how bad the day was and this and that. He sits on the couch. He wants to sleep. He wants to be in bed, but they’re talking, and they haven’t told _him_ the plan. No one’s telling him what’s about to happen next, so he waits quietly. Doesn’t want to be too much of a bother.

They’re both back, looking down at him like a prisoner in custody. Then they sit on the table in front of him, and now he feels like a kid about to get scolded. 

Happy asks him, “have you met her before?”

He sighs shakily. That shaky sigh you do after you’ve finished crying. He nods.

Tony leans forwards, and he has yet to look at them both, “that how she’s always felt?”

_A laugh, that stops suddenly and abruptly. “What did you say?”_

_Peter looks through the living room at May and Holly. May looks upset. Holly quietly hands her daughter a plate, and she’s making her way to him, excited._

_Holly’s voice is suddenly low, like it’s been dialled to ten from ninety, “I know about the apartment.”_

_He listens closely, trying to push out the sounds of the TV in the next room, and of Ben and Holly’s husband – he can’t remember his name – laughing out loud._

_May stands straight, lifting her elbows off the counter, “yeah, I was the one who told you,” she says in an irritated tone. “And it was a long time ago. Okay? We’re good now.”_

_Holly shakes her head, “then tell me what your long-term plans are. Tell me what you’re doing.”_

_“I’m—he needs me and we don’t need both of us working. You stayed home after April, Hol.”_

_“That was different.”_

_“Bullshit it was different.”_

_“I had a job. I finished college. And I—” emphasis on I and a pause for dramatic effect, “—wasn’t planning on sitting at home doing nothing.”_

_May’s face says it all. She turns to look at them, and he looks away, pretending he’s not listening. Pretending he’s watching TV. “Screw you, Holly.”_

_“May—” she takes her arm. “I’m sorry. Just—have you thought about what I said.”_

_“Oh my God,” May mutters, like she’s talking to a crazy person, “you think about sending April to boarding school until she’s eighteen and then talk to me. In fact, why don’t you do it?”_

_Holly’s eyes meet his for a brief second, then she’s talking to May again. “You dropped out of fucking medical school, May. You did it for a guy you barely knew!”_

_“I have a kid, Holly, why is that so hard for you to understand? I’m not doing anything for him that you wouldn’t for yours!” May pleads, and their voices are raising uncontrollably but he doesn’t think they realize._

_Holly throws her hands up in the air, “she’s my daughter! He’s not your son, May,” she shouts._

He nods. “I think so.”

“Then why didn’t you say?”

He shrugs, “because . . . because you’re looking for someone that can take care of me, right? ‘Till I’m eighteen. I thought—I don’t know.”

“No, that’s not what we were doing, and I promise you that. Right, Tony?” assures Happy, looking to Tony with a face that would make anyone go along with it.

Tony tells him “we’re doing what’s best for you, Peter,” and then they look at each other again. They keep doing that. “Who do you want to stay with?”

Peter shrugs again, because he doesn’t know how to answer that question. “I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do, it’s your life, kid.”

Tony sniffs, and Happy takes over with “whatever _you_ want, Peter.”

He closes his eyes, can’t take another sentence that ends with _Peter_ because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if they keep talking to him like they’re talking to a newborn baby.

“I don’t care. It’s just two years, right?” he says, voice grainier than ever. 

“Okay. How about today, we start with here?”

Peter nods, relieved that they’ve made a decision for him because God knows he couldn’t. “Okay, Mr Stark.”

“And tomorrow you can spend some time with me,” says Happy with a sad smile because he also lost someone he loved, and he’s handling it the way he is because he doesn’t want to scare him. He sees it. Just like he saw it with Ben every time his dad came into a conversation. Just like he saw it with May after Ben. 

It’s not fair on Happy. He deserves to grieve. He doesn’t need a teenager passed onto him just because he was dating her.

He decides to say it, because of all things, this isn’t something he should keep quiet on. “I, uh, I know what’s supposed to happen. I can take care of myself for a few years.”

Tony’s face twists as soon as he says that, and he shakes his head, telling him the horrible state of foster homes in the country and “you don’t know the first thing that goes on in those places”.

“That’s where kids with no other option go—”

“—we not enough of a choice to be taken into consideration? Your life is here, who knows—”

“And it’s not a ‘few years’, what about graduation, you’re—”

“—where they’ll take you if you end up with a bunch of psychos!”

“—in a good school. That school is your shot at graduation, Peter—"

“ _You_ were dating her, you don’t need to feel responsible. She wouldn’t be angry if you didn’t want to do this, Mr Happy, and Mr Stark, you have a baby, and I know you’re both sad. You both feel bad for me—” he laughs sadly, “— _I_ feel bad for me. This sucks. It’s—” he looks down, sighing, before looking up at them again. “Me being Spider-Man and coming here ever few days or weeks is—that’s not the same as me living here. I like the cat at Mr Delmar’s shop but I know I couldn’t take care of it, and I know you guys feel the same so I’m not—it’s—it’s fine if you don’t want to. It’s fine.”

Tony doesn’t wait a second before he says, “that’s touching, Peter, isn’t it, Happy?” he asks casually.

Happy groans, “shut up, Tony,” he says, maybe because he senses the discomfort Peter shows at the sarcasm.

“No, it’s—you’re making me sad saying that. I’m not—what we’re doing is what normal people do when someone they love needs help. Alright? I know this is weird. It’s awkward. I know you’re not talking a lot. I know you’re going along with everything we’re saying because you feel like you have to.”

Happy agrees, which he expressed with a sincere nod.

“We’re all in this together,” is how Tony finishes his speech, “we work this out together. We figure out what’s happening next _together_. And maybe, once you get into a good college, we’ll think about letting you move out.”

Peter breathes out a laugh. College is long-term planning. This is long-term planning, and he realizes that really, those were the only words he was looking for. Words that told him he was safe for now.

And he appreciates them more than he can express.


End file.
